The Mac Predicament
by zanna.marie
Summary: So you think living with Sheldon, King of the Nerds, would be hard? Try throwing in a kid who is pretty much the Prince of Nerds and see how Leonard's sanity holds up. Rated T to be on the safe side, things may come up later.
1. An Unexpected Guest

**A/N: This just was a little experiment of what might happen should our dear Sheldon and Leonard be forced to live with a smart-arse, Dr. Who loving, math geek of a 14 year old for a month. **

**I apologize for any OOC-ness, this is my first fan-fic so I'm just trying to get used to the characters.**

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own TBBT or any of their wonderful characters. I do own the character of Jerome, although he is based off of a real person.  
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"Leonard." _Knockknockknock. _"Leonard." _Knockknockknock. _"Leon—"

"What, Sheldon?" The curly haired man poked his head out from behind his bedroom door, pushing his glasses up his nose peevishly.

"There's—there's a little person outside our door." The lanky man twitched nervously, apparently not sure what to do.

"As in a hobbit?"

"Yes."

"Awesome!" Leonard's eyes lit up.

"Bazinga. I meant as in a teenage boy. And I tried offering him my lunch money, but he still didn't go away." Sheldon said nervously, causing the other to gulp.

"Is he really that scary?"

"He's wearing a t-shirt that proclaims him to be a Mac."

"Oh, my God." Leonard flung open his door, running into the living area of their apartment, only to find a young boy of about fourteen sitting on the left side of the couch and doing math problems with a black pen. "Who are you?"

The boy looked up, his raised eyebrow disappearing into his mop of dark hair.

"I'm Jerome, Jerome Chen." The boy set down his notebook on the coffee table, and stood up, offering his hand to Sheldon. "It's nice to meet you, Dr. Hofstadter." Sheldon stared at his outstretched hand blankly. "Dr. Hofstadter? Are you okay?"

"One, I am not Leonard Hofstadter and two, how do you know Leonard's name?"

The Asian boy looked taken aback and pulled a slip of paper from the pocket of his khakis. He looked down at it, then at the two men. His cheeks reddened, and he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down on his skinny neck.

"I-is this the Dr. Leonard Hofstadter I talked to back in February? I enrolled in the summer program at your college and the dean told me that I could stay with you for the duration of the classes in the summer. I e-mailed you and you said that was okay." Jerome stuttered, brushing a hank of hair back from his forehead.

Leonard's eyes lit up with recognition.

"So you're the one who started telling me that physics was trivial. I remember you, now. I thought you were coming next week…?" he trailed off.

"Ah, trivialities." Jerome scoffed. Sheldon gave him an annoyed look, and Jerome shifted uncomfortably. He had opened his mouth to offer an explanation when there was a knock on their door. Leonard hissed to Jerome that they would discuss that later, to which Jerome's only reply was to shrug his shoulders.

"I am not answering the door again." Sheldon called as Leonard loped over. The latter rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair before opening the front door.

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**A/N: Sorry for how short it is! I just wanted to get things established and such. :D Anyway, I'll be posting chapter two soon, maybe it'll be better?  
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	2. Of Couches and Sonics

**A/N: So sorry for this taking so long... Summer started and I found myself procrastinating-a lot! I really like this chapter, even though Jerome is a pain in the butt.**

**Disclaimer: Do you really think I own The Big Bang Theory? Or Doctor Who? Honestly...

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"Would you mind explaining to me why there is a fourteen year old in your living room?" the man with the mop of dark hair asked, sticking his head past Leonard, who was blocking the doorway. Leonard coughed nervously, his eyes shifting back and forth. The aforementioned man raised an eyebrow, giving him a significant look.

"Uh…it's not what you think, Walowitz!" Leonard mumbled.

"You and Sheldon didn't randomly adopt a Chinese boy to be your slave?" he shot back, striding into the room, exuding self confidence as he did so. A mousy Indian man followed him, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.

"So, you got stuck babysitting, huh?" Walowitz's companion asked, his voice tinged with an accent. Leonard sighed.

"In a way, yeah." He replied, adjusting his glasses. Jerome shifted uncomfortably, an indignant look on his face. "There's a sort of camp program going on at the university, remember?"

Raj, the Indian man, nodded.

"Well, despite being from…where, exactly?" Leonard looked to Jerome, head cocked to one side.

"Eh, Chicago, or somewhere around there." The boy replied, squeaking as his voice cracked. Howard grinned, then launched into a very loud, very pitchy rendition of The Blues Brother's "Sweet Home Chicago."

"Despite being from Chicago, he qualified for that." Leonard finished.

"Wow…smart kid." Raj muttered. Jerome gave him a smug, self-satisfied grin.

"I like to think so." He replied, falling back onto the couch and resuming his math problems. Sheldon began to visibly twitch, making small whining noises in the back of his throat. Jerome continued on, oblivious. This only caused Sheldon's whines to turn into loud whimpers, making the boy look up, his eyes glazed over.

"What's the matter with him?"

"You're sitting on his side of the sofa."

"Huh." The boy remained there, stubbornly. With a pained expression, Sheldon sat down beside him. He looked over at the seat and then back to himself, repeatedly.

"Must I go into strenuous details as to why this is the only place I can sit?"

"Go ahead." Jerome said, not bothering to look up. "I still won't move if you do, though."

"You've forced my hand," Sheldon proclaimed threateningly, standing up abruptly, and striding over to the bookcase. He rifled through a box, pulling something out. With deadly precision, he pressed the muzzle of the Phaser against the side of the boy's head. "Set Phasers to stun."

Jerome let out a halting laugh, standing up and spinning around in one movement, withdrawing something from his pocket and pointing it at the Phaser.

They stood there for a second, Phaser against Sonic Screwdriver, both too stunned at the other's nerdiness to do anything. Jerome gave him that cocky grin Sheldon was beginning to loathe so much, pressing a button on the Sonic. It emitted the noise a Sonic Screwdriver normally makes, lighting up as it did so.

"Hah! I've just disarmed that." Jerome laughed, releasing the button, and holding the Sonic loosely to his side. Sheldon, after he set down his Phaser, reached down and snatched it out of his grip.

"What? You have the Mark V? I thought they didn't sell these any more."

"Ebay." The cocky grin was back.

"Of course. You know, I have a Mark IV." Sheldon sniffed, handing the Sonic back to the boy.

"Darn what! How did you get it?"

"I got bored and made it myself." A slow smile was creeping onto Sheldon's face now.

"That's brilliant. Can I see, sometime?" he asked eagerly, stowing the Screwdriver back into his pocket.

"Sure." Perhaps this boy wasn't so bad after all.

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**A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed it. :) I apologise for my lack of...eh...creativity regarding the noise of the Sonic Screwdriver. Please review!**


	3. The Generic Tide Implosion

**A/N: This is probably my longest chapter so far. xD Pathetic, right? Haha. Oh well. I hope you enjoy it. Epic42, I'm sorry I couldn't include Olivia in this chapter, but keep your hair on, I'll include her in the next chapter. **

**I am quite pleased with this and hope you all enjoy it as well.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Big Bang Theory or Doctor Who. Or Tide laundry detergent.**

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Jerome wasn't too fond of Penny.

One could say that it was because of the Halo night with her and the guys he'd been forced to endure, but it was probably more because of the laundry incident.

After a week spent at the camp and just hanging out with Sheldon & Co., every shirt he had brought with him had either blood spattered across it, leftover Thai food dried on it, or just smelled really bad. Consulting Sheldon while he was watching Star Trek was like trying to ask a Dalek for directions to Caltech, so Jerome settled for wandering around the apartment complex until he found the laundry room, a borrowed basket full of shirts tucked under his arm. When he finally found it, his stomach sank as he realized that he didn't exactly know how to do his laundry.

_I wish mom had showed me before I left… _he thought, sighing.

For the sake of saving time, Jerome decided to just throw all his shirts—blue, black, red, and white—into the wash, all at the same time. This, unfortunately, included the shirt he was currently wearing, which had a large curry stain down the front of it. Giving the room and the hallway a once over, he quickly tugged it over his head and tossed it into the gaping metal mouth of the washing machine. He shivered involuntarily, getting goose bumps from the sudden blast of air conditioning on previously warm skin. The teenager was considering Sonicing the air duct in an attempt to lessen the output when he got the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck. Whipping around, he saw a very pretty blonde woman watching him, clearly amused at his current state of shirtless-ness. With her shorter-than-short shorts and her light blonde hair piled on top of her head, she reminded Jerome of those idiotic girls at his school who couldn't seem to grasp the concept of one plus one equaling two, let alone differential equations. A plastic basket filled with tank tops, sweat pants, and—horror of horrors—_bras_ was balanced on her left hip.

Suddenly aware once more of the cold air blowing against his bare skin, Jerome blushed a bright red and fumbled around for the detergent, twisting the cap off with shaking hands.

_Okay. She's just a girl. A very pretty girl. Who is doing her laundry. More specifically, her bras. _He thought, desperately avoiding eye contact. _I had no idea bras even came in that colour._ He added, a lime green brassier catching his gaze. His reflection on how practical a colour like that would be was cut short as the woman sashayed over, her fuzzy boots making '_schwsh schwsh_' noises on the floor. She stood next to him, her face so close to his that he could see the separate flecks of glitter in her lip gloss. And on her cheeks. And her eyelids.

_What is with this girl and glitter? _He wondered, pouring detergent into the washer and over his clothes.

She stared at him for a moment, then opened her mouth and said, in a Midwestern accent similar to his own,

"Where's your mom, honey?"

He twitched. She continued.

"You're gonna catch a cold, standing there without a shirt. Hang on. I think I have one you can borrow." She began rifling through the basket, pulling out a shirt that he recognised as one of Leonard's.

"Uh, no thanks…I'm sorry, I never caught your name." he managed to eek out, his voice cracking on random syllables. Inwardly he cursed his pubescent vocal cords. The woman stifled a laugh, making Jerome blush harder. She leaned against one of the washing machines and shifted the plastic basket to her other hip.

"It's Penny. And you?"

"Jerome."

"So, Jerome, which apartment did you move into?" Jerome paused for a moment, considering whether or not he should give her the long explanation or the short one. In the end, he opted for the one with the least amount of syllables.

"4A."

"No way! I'm in 4B! I can't wait to meet your—hang on…Sheldon and Leonard moved out? Holy crap on a cracker! My own boyfriend moved out and didn't even tell me?" she shrieked, blabbering on and on. Fed up and embarrassed, Jerome slammed the top of the washer shut, starling Penny into silence. He glared at her as he punched the buttons, throwing the once full (but now completely empty) bottle of generic Tide back on the upper shelf with a clatter.

"I am staying, for a month, with Dr. Hofstadter and Dr. Cooper as part of a summer program for gifted teenagers run by the California Institute of Technology. They were generous enough to provide me with a place to stay while I'm here." He took in a deep breath before adding, "Though I'd rather stay with a mathematician. Dr. Hofstadter won't shut up about the string theory."

Penny blinked, apparently taken aback by his outburst. Her jaw hung open, a look of utter shock on her face.

"What?" he asked peevishly, his eyes narrowing.

"The washer…" Penny choked out. Jerome turned around and then leaped backward, trying to avoid the stream of bubbles leaking from the top.

"Darn what. I mustn't have been paying attention because someone was blabbering on and on…" he snarled, glaring at the woman. "Great." The boy threw open the lid of the washer and began taking the wet, soapy shirts out and tossing them into the big utility sink at the edge of the room and rinsing them off. Penny busied herself with piling her things into another, less soapy washer. To be fair, the woman did offer to help, but Jerome, being the ever prideful child, declined.

Even after she'd gone, Jerome was still there, as lonely, cold and lacking shirts as he'd been when he started.


End file.
